


Puppy Tails - John’s holiday

by Aurora_bee



Series: Puppy tails [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Comedy, Gen, Humor, Puppies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-10
Updated: 2012-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-05 03:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_bee/pseuds/Aurora_bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John goes on holiday leaving Gladstone with Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puppy Tails - John’s holiday

Dad left for a week in Ireland to visit friends, and he couldn’t take Gladstone with him. Gladstone was left alone with Uncle Sherlock. 

It wasn’t so bad because he’d been taken for walks and fed and played with. Dad phoned 3 times a day to talk to him. Uncle Sherlock had said it was ‘absurd’, but grinned at the same time.

The second day Uncle Sherlock was laying on the couch in his PJ’s. Gladstone was snuggled into his side. Neither of them really seemed to do much when his dad wasn’t there. Uncle Sherlock’s phone kept tinkling but he ignored it saying it was either Mycroft or Lestrade. Sherlock rolled on his side and hugged Gladstone. 

“I miss John.” Then he jumped up all of a sudden. “I have an idea!” 

Uncle Sherlock got dressed and they walked down to the local corner shop. Uncle Sherlock bought a bottle of clear stuff and some cigarettes. Mrs Hudson was at the door when they returned.

“I’m going to visit my sister for the weekend.” She said and kissed Uncle Sherlock, he smiled.

“Have a good time.” Uncle Sherlock replied, carrying Gladstone up the stairs.

An hour later music was blaring out from the stereo, and Uncle Sherlock was bouncing about ‘dancing’. Gladstone had joined in at first, but Uncle Sherlock was getting less steady the more clear stuff he drank. Gladstone sat in dad’s chair as Uncle Sherlock started singing.

_“I wanna sex you up, all night…”_

Sherlock got up, opened one of the front windows and lit up a cigarette. He started to talk to Gladstone.

“You know I really like John. I don’t nobly, nomly, normally ‘like’ anyone. He’s very tractive, uhm pretty.” Sherlock took a big drag from his cigarette. “I think he must like me, because he puts up with this.” Sherlock waved his hand round the flat. Gladstone wagged his tail. “I don’t think he likes me the way I like him though.” Uncle Sherlock hiccupped, and took another swig of the clear stuff. “I think I would like to kiss him.” Gladstone wagged his tail faster.

An hour later the music was still really loud, Uncle Sherlock was still singing. Apparently it had got really hot in the flat so he’d stripped down to his pants. 

_”I keep your picture upon the wall, it hides a nasty stain that’s lying there”_

Uncle Sherlock was sat in his chair laptop in front of him, playing FreeCell. His eyes were very glazed and he was smoking another cigarette.

Fortunately Uncle Sherlock had put a whole box of crunchies on the floor for him so he helped himself to some that had fallen out. The front door opened and someone walked up the stairs. It was Mycroft.

“Sherlock, what are you doing.” Uncle Sherlock looked up at him.

“Hello dear brother, how arrrree you?” Mycroft looked at the empty bottle.

“I’m bored..” Uncle Sherlock threw the first thing at hand at Mycroft. It happened to be his laptop. It missed and Gladstone hid in the kitchen with his ears back. Mycroft was angry.

“Why are you doing this Sherlock! John is away for 2 days, you can’t even look after your dog.” Mycroft stamped his umbrella on the floor. “For god sake Sherlock just tell him.” 

Uncle Sherlock rubbed the top of his nose, Mycroft picked up the laptop and put it on the kitchen table. He picked up the puppy crunchies and put some wet food down for Gladstone. Mycroft patted Gladstone on the head.

“Sherlock please try and sober up, and I don’t just mean the alcohol. Look at yourself.” Mycroft walked out of the door, and Uncle Sherlock sighed. Then he got up and fell over the coffee table. Gladstone finished his dinner as Uncle Sherlock crawled past to his bedroom.

Dad arrived back a day early to find Uncle Sherlock cleaning the oven. He rubbed his eyes, walked out then back in again. Shaking his head he opened the fridge which was pristine clean and full of his favourite beer. He took a bottle opened it and took a big swig.

“Who are you and what have you done with my flat mate?”


End file.
